Lying Low
by Sophabelle
Summary: I’m attempting to write something with chapters, so expect more. At some point. ...Probably! Reno and Elena. Possibly a little romance? I don't really know where this is going!


The accordion tune danced along with a false exuberance. Endless descending scales were pervaded only by bass notes, which stung at the walls with their repetitive hum.

Reno gripped his glass as the track skipped. Again.

Another nail in the proverbial coffin.Or not. This really was torture.

And now he'd started using clichéd expressions slightly out of context. That was 'Lena's influence.

_Elena._

It was entirely her fault he was in this dump. He couldn't even whip out his old Turk issue 240 pistol, and take out all the speakers spewing Latino shit with some bad-ass marksmanship. Also her fault.

He scowled.

That would've been a great way to denounce her instructions…"Just don't draw attention to yourself Reno!" Pffft.

He _had_ to be the centre of attention. Shifting uncomfortably at the sudden twinge of loneliness, he closed his eyes. Block it out.

They lolled in their sockets, itching with boredom. He dug his palms in, rubbing firmly, and blinked. Cheap orange lights glared angrily, and a prickling sensation peppered his temples.

How long would this last? Splitting after a heist had always sucked, but this was different. He was beginning to miss… fuck that. This town was just such a shit-hole.

Unless you wanted to check out ladies in skimpy swimwear...This was - bizarrely - the last thing on his mind.

Right now, he was too busy being pissed off. Should've shacked at the Gold Saucer. At least they had real bars there.

With real drinks.

Reno stared blankly at the lurid sunny concoction in his glass. Why was he here again? …Lying low. Got it.

The real question was why he was fucking listening to her.

The bar was dark. And stiflingly hot. He pushed sweat slicked hair off his face, and attempted to open the last few buttons of an already ruffled shirt. Fingers worked clumsily, struggling with the last button. Dexterity had never been a strong point. Admittedly, in early Turk training he'd been disadvantaged; but always committed. He had something to prove.

Now Reno was un-matched in skill with all ShinRa manufacture firearms, amongst other talents…

He smirked.

Shame the menial tasks had never been perfected. He still couldn't manage the Windsor knot Rude used on his tie.

Memories of the old days were smothered by finely-tuned 'Turk senses'.

He felt eyes on him.

A 180 degree scan told him the patrons were staring. And there was a new bartender.

Aquamarine flickered over the older man. He was watching the red-head with wide eyes, whilst cleaning the underside of a pitcher. Perspiration formed in the crease of his raised brow. It pooled there for a minute, and then trickled down to where he licked his lip nervously.

Either someone was unused to the Costan heat, or his cover had been blown.

Damn.

Still, he was secretly pleased - the guy was pumping sweat; obviously terrified. Reno was close enough to smell it. Nostrils flared, breathing it in. Thatfearful respect used to give him a buzz when he was a Turk.

The pang of emotion caught him off guard. He buried it. It's not like that shit mattered anymore. He just missed carrying a gun.

Now to get out of this arsey little resort town.

The thought renewed his energy, and he swivelled happily on the barstool. Left to right, right to left - legs extended in child-like delight.

The stool, unused to the jerky motion, screeched in protest. The bar-man opened his mouth to speak.

Reno grinned maliciously, before launching himself around, in a full revolution, at high speed…until his legs connected solidly with a squeaky blonde object.

The girl stumbled backwards and hit the floor with a painful thud.

His shock condensed into a single raised eyebrow. The surprise of seeing her was replaced with the ease with which she went down. A rookie to the end. A kind of cute, dorky rookie though.

An apology swirled around his mouth but he swallowed it, quickly regaining his audacious disposition.

The grin reappeared, considerably wider. He proffered a hand, before speaking-

"Heya Laney!"


End file.
